Hiei and the Masters of the Pokeverse
by Kioji
Summary: Having failed to consume the Dragon of the Darkness Flame, Hiei is strewn through time and space itself, suffering unimaginable pain as his demonic power is stripped away, only to find himself faced with his greatest challenge yet. Pikachu. Crossover!
1. I Hate You, Pikachu

_This is for Stephanie!_

_(all rights to Pokémon , Yu Yu Hakusho, DBZ, Zelda, Gundam Wing, Princess Tutu, Yu-Gi-Oh, John Nidositko IV, Kakashi, and Vincent Lecavileir—disclaimed!)_

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* * *

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**Hiei and the Masters of the Pokeverse**

A Crack Fic.  
The Crackiest One You'll Ever Find.  
And Like.

* * *

Hiei predicted hell to be a scary place—brimming with the moral rejects and most powerful of blood-lusting demons, tripping over itself with the scourge of both the human and demon realms, blazing, insatiable flames lashing, screaming and hissing for his soul—so as he flailed through space and time itself, he braced himself for his end. After all, no matter how much of an asset he was to the upper management, he doubted his feet would be allowed to besmirch the front gates of heaven. Hiei resigned himself to it—after all, he wasn't expecting anything better than an eternity burning like pot roast. It's not like he expected to submit right away, anyway. He'd just as soon kiss his own balls before he let his destiny be manhandled without his consent. Hell, it might even _fun_, seeing how long he could fend off the devil's assassins. Hiei might even get a shot at Satan himself, if he was lucky.

As he tumbled through obscurity, he cursed his inability to master the dragon of the darkness flame, instead letting himself be consumed by his own summon. Hiei risked everything on his indomitable willpower—and thusly lost everything. No doubt his team—his _friends_, if he dared admit—were running around in a frenzy, if not desecrated by his backfired attack, left with the rest of his mess _and_ the Toguro duo. Perhaps he did deserve his own personal spit above an open flame for his shear _stupidity_.

Blinding pain rippled out from his third eye, swiftly draining his mind of coherent thought. Smoldering from the inside, Hiei couldn't even bring himself to scream as his very soul was torn from every pore and abrasion on his body, his own internal flames manifesting in a vacuum around him. He twisted in agony, almost panicking when the inferno appeared to increase exponentially with every spasm and fluctuation.

Hiei continued to barrel through the endless black, paralyzed with pain—but laughing on the inside at his pure disastrous luck. It seems they wouldn't even _let_ him into hell, instead letting him squirm in his own flammable body fluids outside of reality.

So much for that.

Piercing through Hiei's torture, light streamed from somewhere ahead, engulfing him in another kind of sightless fall into oblivion. He might have dared to hope, but the shear amount of pain building in his gut dissuaded any notion of optimism.

And then, as quickly as the pain blossomed, it dissipated, unfurling into a powerful lack of sensation. Hiei almost preferred the pain to the numbness—he couldn't tell his ass from his ankle; much less feel his own existence apart from the sudden swirling blue and white. He lifted his head, trying to grasp the abrupt source of color and light, realizing with a pang of surprise that the passing curls of transparent white also had form, if barely. Hiei squinted his eyes, discovering slowly he was no longer hurling through nothingness, but falling by the force of gravity—and that the moist colorless haze bore semblance to dense cloud cover.

Hiei nearly snorted—from the frying pan into the boiler, it seemed. As if being scorched from the inside out wasn't enough, now he had to plummet headfirst into his demise. Would he be incinerated by the hellish flames before he ever reached the surface? Or perhaps a giant trampoline rested below, keeping him in one piece after his fall so he could suffer another more painful treatment? Or perhaps a field of man eating plants, growing tall into the sky in hope of a tasty meal via sky vomit. _Perfect_. The infamous Hiei—now destined to be little less than the crusty buildup in plant fertilizer.

The sky started to clear as he neared his final destination, but it was not endless flames or mutated Venus fly-traps waiting for him below. To his shock, it _was _a trampoline, or at least something like it. Still high above it, Hiei tried to print a clear picture of the scene below him, finally discerning the spoke-like folds and drops of the dim circular object centered in a vacant field surrounded by lush, full trees. He could make out moving dots trailing in and out of the clearing, guessing they could only be the demons waiting for him to make a face print in their cruel joke of a soft landing.

Another rush of opaque clouds obstructed his cautious observation, blocking his view for countless seconds before disappearing behind him. Hiei crossed his arms in midair, figuring himself about fifteen seconds from a graceless dive into the arms of death. No matter—life was wasted on a talentless criminal like him anyway, his only regret being he couldn't be around longer to watch over Yukina. He closed his eyes, amused that hell could be so _cool_ and _green_.

His shoulder was the first to hit, somehow tearing the cloth-like substance fairly painlessly and allowing the rest of his body to glide through and crash land on another layer of sturdy fabric. Winded, he instinctively flailed his arms to secure himself, unable to stop his sideways descent towards the end of the material, his nails biting into the textile with a chilling nails-on-chalkboard sound. Hiei's legs dropped over the ledge, but he managed to snag a hold of the giving cloth before he fell any further.

Blinking in shock, he looked down, locked onto the gaze of wide-eyed creature with yellow fur and crimson cheeks. Seeing the ground was only another ten feet below him, he released his grip on the coarse material and clumsily landed on his side. He gathered himself to his knees, uncharacteristically dizzy and weakened.

"Peeeeka?"

* * *

_Most of you are probably thinking--"What. In. God's. Name. Is. Going. On." Patience! I dislike laying all the cards out at once, but I know this is probably confusing. It clears up. _


	2. Stage One: Denial

* * *

"Peeekachu?"

Hiei craned his aching head to the side, nearly stuffing his face into the outstretched palm of the mysterious sunshine colored demon sent to chain his nuts to his forehead and drag him to the innermost depths of hell. It gently grabbed his nose and squeezed, its cheeks lit up in a pearly, gleaming smirk—a deceiving smile to anyone else. Hiei growled.

"Damn you! You're not taking me without a fight!"

He backed out of the monster's teasing hold on his nasal cavity, fruitlessly searching himself and his surroundings for his sword. Backing against a thin, cold metal rod, he reached around for it to discover it was firmly planted into the earth, and following the pole upwards he found it was one of many holding up a tarp of some sort. Confused, Hiei glanced around again, noting he was far from alone with his tormentor.

Throngs of similar creatures roamed about, most accompanied by a human-like counterpart. Brazen blue skies loomed above outside of the tent's enclosure, not a hint of brimstone or flaring spike-ridden pits outside of his imagination. He narrowed his eyes—this was some sort of trick, a hallucination, a deception to fool him into holding onto some foolish hope, only to be torn away so he could suffer the crushing weight of disappointment. They should save such energy for someone else—no one was fooling _him_.

"Show yourself! Your disguise is futile! I _know_ your true form!"

_Bluffing and bravado won't do me any good_, he thought, trying to gage how much energy he had left to tear the post from its position to use as a weapon. Hiei deemed his total and complete lack of any power to be temporary—after all, even completely drained, he could usually at least _feel_ his reiki. This was another cowardly ploy to make him experience hopelessness. Energized, he tried again to dislodge the shaft.

"Ano… are you okay?"

Hiei forced his tired body to stand upright and face his assailant, his fists bared in front of his face as his only weapons. He'll take them out barehanded—who _needs_ a metal rod to kill lowly demons, anyway.

Unmoving, the fuzzy creature tilted its head, something frighteningly close to confusion seeping across its features as its ears flopped harmlessly to one side.

"So the little fuck thinks he can escape death this way, eh?" Hiei stated, mostly to himself. Readying himself for an attack, Hiei solidified his stance and watched for movement, startled severely when the same questioning voice came from behind—not at all from the bundle of lemonade fur scratching its fangs on a bloodied head of a corpse.

"Ex-excuse me?"

Dismayed he had opponents on more than one front, he adjusted his position to better align his view and determine his options. Now standing to his left was a young woman in a peach kimono and maroon obi, hands timidly clasped in front of her mouth in horror. She watched him with wavering brown eyes, her miniature creature hiding behind her legs. It too carried a red sphere—what was looking more and more like an apple. Hiei whipped his attention back to his original enemy, realizing it was also holding a fruit—not the decapitated skull of its last victim. He blinked, figuring he was losing focus to so easily be swept by the enemy's illusion.

"I'll… kill… you all…," Hiei desperately grasped at the last straws of awareness, threateningly issuing a mumbled death warrant to both the yellow demon and the succubus posing as a human girl. He gritted his teeth, keeping his eyes open as long as he could as he tumbled face first into the soft, grassy terrain. His last thoughts before fading into unconsciousness were every sordid phrase he could think of as he pictured the fair-haired monster chewing greedily on its disgusting treat, oversized chocolate eyes boring into him with curiosity.

_Arrogant bastard… I'll rip his spine out through his eye socket… as soon as I…_

- - - -

Voices floated above him, soft and barely outside his register, despite his sensitive hearing. They must have drugged him, or maybe he was drowning, since it was hard to breath. Yes, the yellow cretin must have strapped iron balls to his limps and ruthlessly threw him into a shallow bath of blood derived from the bodies of other hapless idiots dumb enough to get sucked into this shade of hell.

Hiei struggled to free himself, realizing he really _couldn't_ breath or move, his eyes snapping open to be painfully assaulted by light and the bright backside of the central figure in his nightmares. It was leaning luxuriously against his chin, resting his head on Hiei's forehead and using his heaving chest as a footstool. Fury at the creature's indecent mockery of his pride rose to fever pitch in Hiei, but his wrists and ankles remained lodged in place by unseen bindings.

Torture by suffocation, was it?!

"Oh—he's awake."

A calm aqua-haired demon appeared in Hiei's limited vision, cleverly covering her horns with a black and blue cap Hiei sometimes saw human police officers wear in the larger cities. She leered at him suspiciously, tapping impatient fingers on her black belt at her hip. Hiei nearly chortled. So they planned on emasculating him as well, sending a dominatrix to break his spirit. Perhaps the demon in charge of his punishment had a sick sense of humor, or else _really _knew how to get under his skin.

"That Pikachu seems fond of you, for whatever reason," she stated, her features softening when she directed her bronze gaze to the cheery fiend. Nearly choking on his own tongue trying to verbally lash out as such a claim, Hiei wriggled his head free from the infernal devil's spawn to suck in a lungful of clean air, half-expecting poison gas or metal shards to inter his airway. The woman's eyes refocused on him, suddenly harsh and piercing.

"Are you affiliated with a criminal organization?"

What the bloody _hell_ was up with this place.

"Peeeekaaaa…,"

Hiei lay silent, utterly lambasted by confusion and uncertainty. At every corner of this experience hovered the complete opposite of his predictions, his expectations—and now, his supposed oppressor was asking him if was _affiliated _withany_ criminal organizations_? What kind of poor _paperwork_ did these people keep? Didn't they _know_ who the hell filtered in from oblivion to join the droves of hellions? This went _beyond_ torture—this was sublime, _preposterous_! The perfect insanity, a gloved fit for his own personal suffering, to be surrounded by wretched _half-wits_ for all eternity!

A wrangled chuckle bubbled in his throat, breaking out with growing intensity as he pondered the complete irony of the situation. It soon became maniacal laughter, earning the curious stare of the rose-cheeked creature as it sharpened its talons—innocently itching a foot to anyone else.

- - - -

After a thorough warning about verbally assaulting strangers, Hiei was released from his imprisonment inside an isolated portion of the tent with the solid order to seek a psychiatric doctor as soon as possible, the yellow blob in tow. He wandered through the legions of colorful figures, worried that his energy had _not _returned after rest, and in fact might not exist. Passing through the gaggle wordlessly, Hiei discovered he could not discern human from demon, demon from deity—or anything, for that matter. Everything that moved registered the _same_ in his mind, despite the obvious physical differences of the furred, floppy-eared creatures and the hornless demons walking them. Left alone with less than a slap on the wrist—perhaps it was time to consider alternatives to his original theory.

Hiei clenched his teeth when he felt the blond creature's nails digging into his pant leg, tugging weakly to catch his attention. The urge to _fry_ the presumptuous blond bastard burned in his gut, _begging_ him to try _one _last time to summon at _least_ enough reiki to turn the repulsive beast into chimney smoke. Just the _nerve_ of that thing…clinging to his shins like a blood-sucking leech from the depths of Satan's sewage tank—

"Peeeeeka…"

"And now, back to Viridian with the latest hotshot in the Pokémon League challenge! As hot as his Ninetails, this foxy redhead has proven tact and strategy can outdo brute strength anytime! Just _how_ do you do it, Kurama?"

Hiei dropped his open fist aimed for the creature's head, spinning around wildly. It boomed from everywhere, echoing as it transmitted through speaker boxes attached to the poles. What kind of punishment were they dishing out _now_, to hang such a meager scrap of meat before hungry wolves shackled to iron stakes? Perhaps it was yet another ploy to distract him—

"Well, Gretchen, it is merely a matter of thinking ahead and taking appropriate action."

No, that was _definitely _the smooth and collected reply of his demon companion.

"And _why_ did you send out your fire-type Pokémon despite the obvious disadvantage?"

"Any prize worth having usually requires a risk."

Impatient with his unrewarding efforts to locate the source, Hiei sought out a man walking by, grabbing his collar and pulling him down to his level.

"You! Where is that broadcast coming from? Tell me or I _will_ kill you."

"Peeeeeka," warningly crooned the abomination now desperately pulling at his ankle. Hiei grinded his teeth—so _this _is the purpose of these little monsters, to keep tabs on the unlucky fools _blind_ enough to let one get attached. Perhaps it was the source of his drained energy, as well—quite a handy package for such a miniscule demon.

"Shut up, you—I'll deal with _you_ later."

"I—I—they're somewhere on the grounds! I don't know! Please don't—"

Releasing the man, Hiei pivoted around, nearly knocking into a group of small devils with mangled, torn strips of muscle tissue—or children with cheery licorice sticks—

_This is insane! I can't tell _what_ I'm looking at anymore!_

"Oh! Hey, watch where you're going!"

"Look at that poor Pikachu! It's barely hanging on!"

"How could he be so mean to his Pokémon?"

"Peee—kaaaa—chuuu—"

"Let _go _of me, you infernal beast! I will _not_ let you keep me on a chain like an ignoramus!"

"Well, I certainly haven't seen _you_ this riled up in a wile."

Halting his act of shaking off the vile creation adhering to his waist, Hiei gaped at the man in front of him, his jaw dropped in shock.

"So it _is_ you!"

"Now, Hiei, is that any way to greet an old friend?"

Kurama waved down the two officers trotting to the scene, closing the distance between himself and Hiei with ease.

"I figured you'd eventually show yourself, and naturally when I heard screaming and violent death threats, I assumed it was you. Although, it did take a while longer than I thought."

"What?!"

Narrowing his eyes at the crowd gathered around, Kurama gestured for Hiei to follow him, his eyes thoughtfully locked on the Pokémon practically sewn to Hiei's side.

"Made a friend already, I see. Come, there is much you probably want to know."

* * *


	3. Stage Two: Anger

* * *

"So you're telling me you've been here for six months already after you got sucked in along with me."

"That is correct. I assume I arrived first because I already have a human body. The pain you say you felt in the long journey here must have been the barrier removing your demonic powers. You see, this dimension is not ruled by the same physics as ours. Demons—not like us, anyhow—do not exist here."

Hiei squinted, his fears at last realized.

"Are you saying I'm _human_ now?"

"Hiei, did you _not_ notice your Jagan eye?"

"My—"

He reached a hand to his forehead, realizing neither his headband _nor_ his third eye where there. Hiei blanched. How could he _miss_ something so vital, so _obvious_! He could not sense his demonic energy because he didn't _have _any!

"This cannot be happening!"

"I assure you, it is."

"There must be _some_ way—"

"If there is, I would have found it. Believe me, though I find this place amusing, I am aware of the importance of returning."

"I cannot be _human_! I detest—!"

"Peeka, pika pika!"

Furious, Hiei pointed an indignant finger at his loathsome companion who _refused_ to leave his shadow.

"And _this_ vile demon! It ignores any command or threat!"

"Well, of course. It seems this little guy has taking a liking to you. Stubborn creatures, these Pokémon. I doubt you can go far without him hounding you."

"_Pee_ka!"

"Oh, pardon seems he is indeed a _she_."

"Kur_ama_! You cannot be _serious_! Are you so accepting of your fate? Will you _allow _yourself to be—_leashed down_—like a cowardly dog?"

Smiling sadly, Kurama idly caressed a red and white metal ball at his hip, seeming to lose himself in a fond memory.

"I'm sad you feel that way. In any case, I will warn you."

Suddenly serious, Kurama realigned his posture to fully face Hiei, his usual kind eyes hard emeralds.

"Do _not_ underestimate the creatures here. You no longer have any more power than a normal human—you can be easily killed or injured. Having said I lived here for a while, I can personally attest the shear force these beasts have. I also should caution you against stirring up trouble with the locals. It won't be so easy to escape at human speeds, Hiei."

"Hmp. Don't bother. I'll find my _own_ way out of this—with or _without_ your help."

Seething, Hiei turned his back on him, prepared to leap out of sight before he remembered such a feat wasn't _possible_ any longer. He didn't exactly know _what_ he was going to do, but standing in Kurama's condescending presence absolutely infuriated him. As he began to walk away, he heard Kurama chuckle lightly, like he was sharing a private joke with himself.

"What is it _now_. I'd watch yourself—I am in _no_ mood for jests."

"Don't you wonder, Hiei? What I've been _doing_ these last few months?"

"Hardly. Obviously you've allowed yourself to be _brainwashed_ by—"

"Perhaps a demonstration would be more fitting."

A whirling object breezed past Hiei's face, startling him enough to stop and pay attention. It hit the ground and immediately recoiled into the air, exploding in a burst of red light with a distinctive _pop_. Hiei stepped back, watching with horror as a miniature yōko formed right before his eyes.

"This is—!"

"Hiei, I'd be honored for you to meet my Ninetails, Naruto. He saved my life when I first arrived here, you see. We've been traveling together ever since."

"How?! You claim demons cannot exist—"

"Oh, Naruto is no demon, but he has the power of one. When I ascertained the dangers of this world, I quickly realized the advantages of befriending him—as well as the rewards. Do you know the global pastime, Hiei?"

He crossed his arms, trying his best to appear unimpressed.

"Fighting. With these Pokémon. I was horrified at first—after all, it _is_ basically legalized cockfighting—but then I grew accustomed to it. I even enjoy it now, as long as _they_ do as well."

"I see. You've gone daft."

"On the contrary. I've learned quite a lot. About hardship, bonds. And strength. You would do well to—"

"What can I possibly _learn_ from such a puny creature, other than how to be completely pathetic."

"Standing your ground is not pathetic, Hiei."

"Hmp. I grow tired of your nonsense. Don't come looking for _me_ when I figure out a way _out_ of this hell hole."

"Suit yourself."

"I will."

Hiei continued to stay locked in position, his arms crossed severely over his chest.

"…what the hell is this blasphemous event for, anyway?" He asked, motioning to the surrounding tents and stalls. Kurama grinned, nodding to himself knowingly.

"It's a festival, honoring Pokémon trainers such as myself as well as an important historical event involving—"

"Save your speech for someone who cares."

"Well, you _did_ ask…."

"…What did you just call yourself? A 'pocket-man trader'? You make it sound like you haggle drugs from children crack addicts."

Chuckling behind a hand, Kurama kicked out a chair to his stubborn friend, motioning for him to sit down. Hiei hesitantly acquiesced, figuring he could rest his legs a little before discovering a way to rid himself of his persistent pest _and_ acquire means to accomplish inter-dimensional time travel. It wasn't like he was actually _interested_ in this repulsive world. Any information Kurama could give him would merely be an asset to getting out. Yes, this was completely rudimentary to his survival and eventual escape… not appealing at all…

- - - -

Sleeping in trees was a lot harder than Hiei remembered it being. For one, the bark never dug into his back before—if it had, he certainly hadn't felt it—and he felt far from secure lacking both his sword and energy. The prissy fox had extended an invitation to use his hotel reservation, since he had "other" commendations, but Hiei quickly shot him down. After all, he never used human facilities before, so why should he now?

That had been his thought at the moment, but after picking the creepy crawlies from his ass cheeks and fending off caterpillars the size of his arm, Hiei decided four walls and a roof wouldn't be so bad. And the unbearable noise! Never—not even in the deepest, dankest forests of the demon realm—did he have as much trouble keeping his eardrums from bursting with the insidious racket those _things_ created. He'd give his left testicle for a twelve-gage shot gun to _kill_ the rotten creatures.

Then there was the Pikachu.

Kurama _insisted_ he keep it with him—for appearance, if nothing else, as he looked like a "suspicious character" and having a friendly Pokémon "deterred harsher judgment"—and Hiei doubted he could physically remove the little freak anyway. Hiei tried kicking it—but it just _moved_ out of the way—attempted yelling obscenities—it just gaped dumbly at him, like he was a seventeen-foot-tall apple crumb cake—he strived to chuck it as far away as possibly—but the bastard ensnared its prickly arms around his neck and nestled there. _Nothing_ worked.

He did manage to catch a few hours of sleep, muttering dark threats to Shit-head when the beast endeavored to use his chest as a cuddle toy. The shear _stupidity_ of the thing astounded Hiei—just how long would it take for it to get the point and _leave_?

Dropping like a sack of lopsided logs to the ground, Hiei stretched his back with a pained groan and peered around, almost hopeful when he didn't spot his fuzzy yellow cancer attached to his person. He was quickly disappointed when the bloody thing quickly appeared from the tree with a shrill squeak, using his _head_ as a springboard. Knowing it was futile to try to remove, Hiei left Shit-head to her own devices, cringing when the mental image of her tangled in his hair appeared in his mind.

"Just so you know, I utterly _loath_ you," he growled, glaring at her though his bangs. It smiled cheerfully back down at him, waving tiny fingers in a joyful _hello_.

"Peee_kaa_!"

I've seen more intelligent pond scum, he thought bitterly to himself, pocketing his hands. As he neared the forest path, Hiei felt a sharp pull on his scalp, anger blossoming like ferns after a hurricane.

"_Damn_ the repercussions! YOU DIE NOW!"

Hiei furiously reached for the wretched creature, taken back when it wasn't there.

"So _now_ you run!"

Crouching into a fighting stance, he scoured the area for the obnoxious crooked tail and flash of nearly fluorescent lemon colored fur, instinctively guarding his now many blind spots. He forgot what it was like functioning with only two eyes again. So much so he couldn't even _find_ Shit-head, despite the cretin's ridiculously impractical complexion.

A strangled cry sounded from above, startling Hiei into lowering himself to the ground with caution as he focused his sharp gaze upwards. Sure enough, Shit-head was there—in the merciless claws of an absurdly oversized discolored turkey. Hiei smirked, releasing his tense stance, ready to let the feathered freak have his breakfast. Ignoring the squirmy bastard's pitiful protests, he began to walk away feeling more lighthearted than a buzzard who walked into an abandoned slaughter house.

Feeling a bit smothered, he loosened his collar around his throat, stopping in his tracks when a ripping pain erupted from his back. At the same time, a frenzied scream echoed his own from the struggling Pikachu dangling above, the burn growing as it spread to his throat and arms. Hiei backed himself into a trunk, wrathfully scanning for the source of the invisible barrage. Shit-head's anguished shriek caught his attention exactly as swore he felt _her_ ribs cracking in half, mirrored by his own.

Desperate to halt the pain, Hiei tore his cloak from his back and feverously waved it at the hovering villain, his movements crippled by his aching chest. Another bone crunched someplace in his side, making him almost _positive_ he and the blasted Pokémon were _linked_ physically somehow. Panic rose when he realized the bird was taking off with Shit-head, knowing somehow if he let that creep die—he wouldn't be around much longer to enjoy the peace.

Hiei stumbled after them, tripping over a fallen bough in his path. Catching his fall on his knees, he picked it up and hurled the sturdy limb like a javelin at his target, realizing after he flung the branch he just might kill the Pikachu, too. He kneeled down, nearly praying his dramatic drop in strength was enough to mar his aim. Luckily, the branch smashed into a tree just below the monstrous pheasant, effectively scaring it enough to relax his grip on the bloodied bundle. Hiei didn't think twice to react, flinging himself forward to catch the furry ball before she crushed her delicate neck in a collision course with the earth.

He easily snagged his target from the air, landing harshly on his busted back with an inaudible crunch. Grimacing, he watched with relief as the enormous bird shrieked harmlessly at him and flew off, leaving a handful of feathers in his wake.

Looking down, Hiei coughed viciously and loosened his grip on the barely breathing creature in his arms, surprised when he could breath easier when he did. A frown crossed his features.

Kurama lied. This _had_ to be hell.

- - - -

"And you're _sure_?"

"Yes—yes, I'm sure! Your Pikachu will be just fine! Now, please, sir, _sit_ down and stop scaring the children!" Nurse Joy pleaded, growing frustrated with the troublesome trainer. Nothing but _paranoid_ and _derogatory_ since he crawled to the center's doorway in the middle of the day, the man insisted on being present during his Pokémon's treatment. Of course, such procedures were behind curtains for reasons, so she _tried_ referring him to the clinic next door, but…

She watched him pace the lobby holding his side, the most ferocious scowl on his face. Though her head ached from dealing with his outrageous accusations and course language, she _did_ admire his concern for Shihad, a name she heard him mutter every once in a while. Even as he appeared injured himself, the man refused to be separated a distance of twenty meters or so from his Pikachu. Her heart couldn't _help_ but hold a soft spot for him, since he couldn't be a bad guy with such an adoring Pokémon and obvious love for it. Joy smiled. He rather reminded her of Heathcliff from Wuthering Heights.

"Shihad is doing _great_, sir, we expect a full recovery by tomorrow, so please—"

"Kurama will be a whole _day_ ahead! How the _hell_ will I catch up with him now?"

Joy held her hands up defensively, trying her best to keep a pleasant smile. After all, it was her duty to remain calm in the face of adversity. Besides, he was just worried—completely consumed with compassion for his Shihad, probably beside himself with anxiety—

"_Damn_ you, Shit-head!"

The man stormed out the door, returning a few seconds later with a pained twitch in his expression. He dragged himself to the counter, resuming his earlier position leaning against it, ironically placing himself in the closest place to his Pokémon in the other room. Biting her lower lip to regain her composure, she leaned over the countertop and raised a tentative eyebrow.

"Sh—sh..shit-head?"

* * *


End file.
